The song outside my window mellow green
and in his leafy dance I hear his tune.
Delighted in his fullness, he does lean
as cuckoos sit upon his branches, croon.
This tree has had the better of my morn
as now I sit and watch him play his part
enticing birds as jazz man with a horn
they flock to him and near to him, their heart.
Lush tree outside my window , drunkenness
is fostered on us all; bird, beast. We’re bound;
we’re captured by that joy that you attest
in all your flaunted, fluffy, flut`ring sound.
Oh, solid kin, if God is anywhere;
he must be green with music that is shared.
(My favorite form still seems to be the Shakespearean Sonnet.
I love the challenge of it.